Encounters
by DawningStar
Summary: Sirius Black runs into a child on his way to Hogwarts after his escape, and the unlikely pair become friends. Will she be able to help, or will her efforts give him away? Chapter Two uploaded.
1. The First Encounter

Encounters 

Encounters   
The First Encounter   
by DawningStar

Her name was Nicoma, she was eight years old, and she was entirely lost. 

This was hardly unusual for her, and she was not at all scared despite being in a very dark forest in the middle of the night. Nicoma got lost every time she stepped out of the house, it seemed, which made her mother very reluctant to let her out. But this time she'd managed to slip away just after dinner, escape the magical boundary around the house (it didn't extend past the woodshed, which had a loose board at the back) and go off to explore the forest. 

By this time, however, she was getting rather tired and cold and not a little annoyed at the perversity of the twigs, which caught painfully in her long dark hair and refused to come out, and she was trying in a roundabout sort of way to find her way back. So the sight of the flickering light up ahead was a welcome one. 

It was not, she saw with faint disappointment as she drew nearer, her house. Instead, a warm fire flickered in the center of a clearing, and a smell of roasting meat hung in the air. The fire and meal were tended by a man in ragged gray wizard's robes. His black hair had obviously not been brushed, washed, or cut in quite some time, and he was very thin. He looked familiar somehow, as though Nicoma might have seen him somewhere before, but that was hardly likely and she dismissed it. 

He was probably a tramp, she decided. The forest was several miles wide and there had been people living in it from time to time. She had met a tramp once before, and he had showed her the way back home. Maybe this one would do the same. Nicoma ducked underneath a final low-hanging branch and into the small clearing. 

At the sound of her footsteps, the man whirled, a look of something like fear in his eyes. "Excuse me," Nicoma called to him, "but I'm lost. Do you know the way to my house? Or into town?" 

The man relaxed only very slightly. "No," he said warily, "I'm afraid not." His voice, Nicoma noted, sounded as though he didn't often use it. He must have been alone for a long time. 

"Are you lost, too?" she ventured, drawing closer to the fire. "What's your name? I'm Nicoma." 

There was a long hesitation. "Call me Padfoot," the man said finally. "I suppose I'm lost, yes. But I've been getting along all right out here." 

"Oh." Nicoma looked wistfully at the roasted meat hanging over the fire. 

Padfoot caught the look, and after a moment offered, "Would you like a bit of the meat?" 

"Yes, please!" Nicoma nodded eagerly. Supper seemed very long ago by now, and she hadn't eaten much anyway. Then she looked again at Padfoot. "Er...unless you want it. You look like you need it more than I do." Realizing what she had said, she gasped and covered her mouth. "Sorry! Mother says I haven't a hint of tact." 

Padfoot smiled bitterly. "That's all right. You go ahead. It wasn't living in your forest that made me look this way--I can get more." He took one of the sticks on which pieces of meat were speared off the fire and handed it to her, taking a second for himself. "Careful, it's hot." 

Nicoma sneaked a look at Padfoot while she blew on the steaming meat. He looked so old...not old like her grandparents, who had a sort of stately dignity about them, but instead crushed under the weight of years and memories. And his eyes held a haunted look that echoed her father's, especially recently--especially on one subject in particular. 

Several thoughts came together in the child's mind with an almost audible _click_. Naïve Nicoma might be, but no one could call her anything less than intelligent. "Have you heard about the escape from Azkaban?" she inquired casually. "How Sirius Black got away and all?" 

Padfoot stiffened slightly. "I can't say that I have," he replied, in a forced sort of voice. 

"I can't think why not, it's all over the news. Mother will be awfully worried about me being out here, she always is...I like the forest, but she's afraid there might be horrible things lurking in it." Nicoma grinned. "She wasn't too happy when Daddy decided to move out here in the first place." 

"You'd be the McKinnons' daughter?" Padfoot asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "They mentioned you in town. You've got quite the reputation as a troublemaker." 

"Well, I don't _mean_ to," Nicoma said plaintively. "Things just sort of turn out wrong." 

Padfoot came the closest he had yet to a genuine smile. "I was pretty mischievous myself in my school days at Hogwarts." 

But Nicoma wasn't about to let herself get sidetracked that easily. "Do you think Sirius Black might be around _here_ someplace?" 

"Oh, I wouldn't think you'd have to worry about him," Padfoot replied--rather evasively, Nicoma noted. 

"That's what Daddy says." 

"Does he?" 

"Yes." Nicoma held her breath for an instant, then took the plunge. "Daddy was sort of happy when Sirius Black escaped." 

Padfoot might have tensed, just a bit. "And why was that?" 

"Well, he didn't get a trial--did you know that?" 

"I did, yes." 

"Daddy had some evidence he thinks should have been brought up. But no one listened, because everyone just wanted to forget about everything that'd happened--you know, before. Daddy was on the squad that captured Black...Daddy got his wand. Daddy says nobody knows what really happened the night the Potters were killed. But he says he used the Priori Incantatem spell on the wand, and the last spell it had cast wasn't that explosion spell." 

Nicoma paused, her eyes on Padfoot. The adult was staring at her now, his face a strange mixture of fear and hope. "Which means," she added quietly, "that Black didn't kill all those people. And there was really only one other person who could have done it." 

"_Pettigrew_," Padfoot snarled, and there was a terrible hatred in his voice. 

"It's true then?" Nicoma pressed. "Black's innocent?" 

He seemed to remember where he was then, and looked away quickly. "It's possible, I suppose. I don't know." 

"Well, you're the only one who can say, aren't you?" she asked reasonably. "Seeing as you're him." 

Padfoot stared at her for a long moment, and Nicoma felt a twinge of fear despite herself at his gaunt face and hollow eyes. He certainly _looked_ like a murderer. But she supposed twelve years in Azkaban would do that to anyone--if they survived twelve years in that hopeless place. "You trust me," he said flatly, and Nicoma nodded. 

He laughed shortly, a laugh with no amusement in it whatever. "You're too quick to believe the best of people, child. Life will cure you of that soon enough." 

"I'm right about you, though." 

"And if you are? You don't know that I might not kill _you_, to keep you from reporting me." 

"You won't," she said confidently. "You're _good_." 

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you," he muttered. "Would you be surprised to learn that I _am_ headed to Hogwarts to kill someone?" 

It did surprise Nicoma, though perhaps not for the reason he had expected. "Pettigrew's at Hogwarts?" 

Padfoot choked on a mouthful of meat, spluttered, and finally cleared his mouth. "How do you figure that?" he demanded. 

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Who else would it be? But I thought he'd blown himself up." 

"No," Padfoot snorted. "He was too cowardly for that." 

"How'd he get away, then?" 

The adult said nothing, tearing another bite from the meat. 

"You can trust me," Nicoma assured him. "I won't tell anyone, ever, if you don't want me to. Cross my heart." She made the gesture of the childish pledge. 

Padfoot gazed into the fire, then finally turned to Nicoma. "All right. I suppose no one would believe you even if you did tell..." It had the sound of a man trying to convince himself. Nicoma felt faintly insulted, but said nothing. As long as her curiosity was satisfied, he could think what he liked. And besides, there was more than a little truth to his comment. 

So he told her the story, and Nicoma listened raptly to the tale of friendship and betrayal, of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. He even showed her his Animagi form, apparently touched by her lack of fear and genuine interest. 

At the sight of the huge black dog, Nicoma let out a squeal of delight and rushed forward to pet him. "And no one _knows_?" she giggled. "You're safe then, Padfoot! Nobody'd ever find you like this!" 

He changed back rather suddenly, looking a little uncomfortable with her hands tangled in the shaggy black hair falling past his shoulders. "I certainly hope not," he muttered. 

Unembarrassed, Nicoma disentangled herself and added severely, "You need a haircut. I haven't any scissors with me or I'd give you one myself. Honestly, anyone who caught a glimpse of you would be calling the police even if they'd never heard of Sirius Black." 

Padfoot shook his head, unconsciously reaching to feel the unkempt mass. "I don't have time," he said. "I have to get to Hogwarts. Harry Potter is in danger." 

"Right," she sighed, "I suppose so." Suddenly she brightened. "Wait a second. If you turn into a dog, you must have a good sense of smell then." 

"I'm glad you have such knowledge of the canine genus," Padfoot said dryly. 

Nicoma didn't seem to notice the sarcasm. "Mother says I'm a regular encyclopedia," she agreed. "But the point is, you can find my way back." 

His dark eyes met hers, less guarded than before, a little more emotion in them now. "I suppose that might be possible," Padfoot admitted at last, his sense of responsibility winning out. "Might take quite a while, though, depending on how far you've traveled." 

She shrugged. "I'm not very tired, so I didn't walk too far. I think." 

It was a very unsatisfactory estimate of distance, but he really couldn't leave her out here alone. Not to mention that it would be safer for him if no one came out looking for her. With a put-upon sigh, Padfoot took the last of the meat off the fire and transformed. He dug rapidly with his large paws, covering over the coals with earth to prevent any spread of fire, and then sniffed about and led her off into the forest. 

It didn't take as long as he had feared; Nicoma had followed a meandering path, but one not difficult to retrace, and she had apparently spent a great deal of time climbing or trying to climb trees and in other such activities. Perhaps half an hour later, they stood just beyond the woodshed, lights flickering invitingly from within the house. 

It was a large house, standing alone in the middle of the forest. Nicoma was quite fond of it; it had once belonged to her Grandmother and Grandfather McKinnon, whom she had never met, both killed in a fight against Death Eaters years ago. There were all sorts of hidden crannies, and Nicoma was certain that if she looked long enough, she would eventually find a secret passage. So far, though, she had only discovered the loose board in the woodshed. 

She put a hand on the rough wood and turned to Padfoot. "Once you get to Hogwarts," she whispered, "once Harry Potter is safe and everything...if you ever need anything, I'll try to help. Just leave a rock or something inside the board here and I'll meet you at sunset. No one ever comes in the woodshed except me. It's my secret place--I'll check every day, promise..." 

Abandoning dignity, Nicoma flung her arms around the huge, black dog. "Thank you for helping me, Padfoot," she murmured into his fur. "Don't get caught. Please." 

Padfoot let out a low whine of assurance--certainly he would do his best. And he wouldn't involve this child again if he could help it. The girl shouldn't get caught up in matters of convicted criminals and fugitives from the Ministry of Magic. 

But somehow it was nice to know that someone trusted him; that someone believed he was innocent. 


	2. The Second Encounter

Encounters  
The Second Encounter  
by DawningStar

Sirius Black looped the end of the hippogriff's rope around a low-hanging branch, hoping it was sturdy enough to hold. "Be quiet," he cautioned Buckbeak. "We don't want Nicoma to get in trouble."

Buckbeak studied the forest floor intently and didn't appear to have heard a thing. Sirius sighed. The flight from Hogwarts had taken several hours and he'd talked to Buckbeak quite a bit while they flew, but the hippogriff still didn't like the fact that Hagrid was gone and he had to stay with this stranger. Sirius was quite certain Buckbeak understood-hippogriffs in general were fairly intelligent, and this one seemed particularly so-but it was more convenient to pretend incomprehension.

Hoping Buckbeak would stay put, Sirius transformed and set out for the McKinnon house. He'd landed not terribly far off, and he had a fairly good idea of where it was even without resorting to his dog senses.

He'd never intended to return to Nicoma's home, but with hopes of proving his innocence and capturing Wormtail gone for now, it was the only place he might be able to get help. Nicoma trusted him, and against his better judgment, he trusted her as well. The child likely couldn't do much, and he couldn't ask more of her than was safe for her to attempt-but Nicoma could at least provide food and a source of news.

The house reared out of the forest suddenly, and Sirius carefully picked his way around it to the woodshed, staying out of sight. Returning to human form for a moment, he tentatively tested each board until he found the one that twisted on its rusty nail, and placed a large rock just inside. Now, if Nicoma kept the promise she had made a year ago and checked, she should be here at sunset. There was little else to do but wait.

Red stained the blue-gray sky through the black branches above, and there was still no sign of Nicoma. Sirius laid his head on his paws and let out a tiny whine. Well, it was probably too much to expect that a child would remember for a whole year.

But then leaves rustled to the rhythm of small footsteps, and the inside door of the woodshed creaked faintly. There was a gasp, and the next instant Nicoma was scrambling through the loose board regardless of the rough edges that caught at her unbound black hair. "Padfoot!" she exclaimed, voice low but filled with delight, as she knelt at his side and stroked the rough fur on his head. "I was so worried about you!"

He shifted to his human self and smiled at her, knowing he looked, if possible, even worse than the last time they'd met. "I didn't want to put you in danger, but now..."

Nicoma shook her head, her small face serious. "I've been reading the newspapers. Dementors all over Hogwarts, and permission to use the Kiss on you...but what happened with Harry Potter? Is he safe?"

Sirius nodded. "Harry is safe from Pettigrew, for now at least. The little rat got away," he added with a growl, "but I was able to talk with Harry. He knows I'm innocent. So does Moony-he was teaching there this year-and Dumbledore, and a couple of Harry's friends. No one else."

"I am glad Harry knows, at least," Nicoma said. "And I'm glad you got away, and came here. I _was_ worried." Suddenly she grinned. "Wait one minute. I almost forgot." She leaned halfway back into the woodshed and came out holding a plastic sack in one hand and a pair of scissors and comb in the other.

Sirius's eyes fixed on the sack first-it gave off a distinct aroma of food. Then he noticed the scissors, and sighed in resignation.

Nicoma's blue eyes flashed fiercely. "You _need_ a _haircut_," she said, enunciating each word distinctly. "You need a bath and new clothes, too, but I'll take what I can get at the moment." Thrusting the sack at him, she circled around and began to work at the matted black mane.

Patiently enduring the small pains of Nicoma's efforts, Sirius opened the sack. Smells of fresh bread drifted out, making his mouth water. He pulled out two loaves of bread, wrapped in a magical coating to keep them good, and several kinds of cold meat and cheese similarly protected.

"I've been keeping some stuff there just in case," Nicoma commented absently, snipping away. "You're lucky-Mother did a baking just yesterday, and I got some of it. I had to replace it every so often, you know."

Sirius didn't answer, being too busy eating at the moment. Nicoma took the steady chewing as a compliment to her mother's cooking and her own preparation, and kept working.

"Done," she announced proudly at last. "Just a second, I'll get a mirror so you can see..." Nicoma reached through the plank once more for the item. Sirius wondered for a moment just how much stuff she kept in there, but decided that it really wasn't any of his business.

Looking briefly into the mirror, Sirius had to admit he didn't look quite so much like a convicted criminal running from the law without the long, tangled black hair. Now he just looked like a man who'd tried cutting his hair with a knife.

He was immediately ashamed of the thought. Nicoma really had done a pretty good job, and it _was_ an improvement. Just about anything would have been, actually. "Thanks, Nicoma," he said, "for this and the food." He'd already finished nearly the entire sack.

Nicoma smiled, pleased. "I can get more whenever you need it," she promised. "Did you just get here? When did you leave Hogwarts?"

"Actually, I only left Hogwarts last night," Sirius replied. "I had...a rather unusual method of transportation."

"Really? What?" she asked, intrigued.

A misgiving crossed the adult's mind. Was it a good idea to tell Nicoma of Buckbeak? Of course she'd never do anything to give him away, but if she happened to be frightened of large animals, for instance-but Sirius dismissed it. He got the feeling Nicoma wasn't afraid of much of anything. "A hippogriff," he told her.

Nicoma's face lit up like a lantern. "You saved him! How wonderful, Padfoot! I knew you wouldn't let anything bad happen while you were there."

"What?" Sirius asked, badly confused.

"The hippogriff that was supposed to be executed yesterday for biting someone," Nicoma explained patiently. "Hagrid's pet. Daddy said he was probably framed by the Malfoys, and I was hoping someone would rescue him. There was an article in the Daily Prophet."

"You really have been paying attention to the papers, haven't you?" Sirius commented. He hated to destroy her heroic picture of him, but certainly he couldn't lie to her. "But actually, no, I suppose Harry got Buckbeak away. I was in some trouble around that point." He told her of his capture and near-miraculous rescue, something he still didn't understand. He hoped Harry and Hermione hadn't gotten in trouble for it.

Nicoma had listened wide-eyed while the forest grew darker, and now she entreated, "Please, can't I see Buckbeak? I've never seen a hippogriff before, and I love animals."

He grinned at her. "All right," he assented, "if you have enough time before your parents will miss you."

Clapping her hands in delight, she jumped to her feet and bounded ahead, impatiently waiting for him to catch up. "Plenty of time," she said eagerly. "I told Mother I was going to play in the woodshed and she won't expect me back for almost two hours."

Sirius nodded, and transformed, trotting to her side to show the way. It shouldn't be long, even for the child, he thought. She was surely used to travel in the forest-she ought to be, with all the times she'd apparently gotten lost in it.

Nicoma moved quickly, barely waiting for him to indicate the direction before she'd run ahead another ten feet. She nearly succeeded in outpacing Sirius, to his astonishment. He was panting slightly by the time they reached his landing point-even at night, the summer heat was stifling.

The hippogriff was still tied to the branch. The ground nearby had been torn into, exposing the roots of several plants, and Buckbeak was munching contentedly on something. He looked up in faint surprise as they approached.

Sirius Black returned quickly to his human form, bowing to the gray hippogriff. Buckbeak returned the bow courteously, eyeing the girl with suspicion.

"Bow," Sirius told her, "and try not to blink. Hippogriffs are extremely polite creatures, if you're polite to them."

Nicoma nodded hard, eyes so wide he doubted she could blink, and made a bow. "He's _beautiful_!" she murmured.

Buckbeak returned the bow, preening so obviously at the compliment that Sirius laughed. "He likes you," the adult remarked.

"Really? Can I pet him?" She moved closer, one hand outstretched.

"Of course," Sirius grinned.

Buckbeak bent down so that Nicoma could just reach the smooth gray feathers of his head, and she gently stroked them. "You know," she said absently, "you're not like you were. Nicer. Happier, maybe. You smile now."

Sirius considered, and admitted to himself that Nicoma was right. "Maybe it's just that you and Harry and Moony know I'm innocent. And being away from the dementors." He hadn't told Nicoma Moony's real name, though she could probably have figured it out if she wanted to. It was better for her to be kept out of things as much as possible.

"That would do it," Nicoma agreed. One hand still on Buckbeak's head, she looked at Sirius. "What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged. "Leave the country. With Buckbeak I'll be able to travel quite a ways. I'd like to get a message to Harry, but I don't know how I could manage that."

The child nodded. "Maybe I can help," she suggested hopefully. "You write a letter, and I'll send it from the Owlery in town, or something."

"No," Sirius said firmly. "Absolutely not. What if someone read the letter? I'm not getting you in trouble."

Nicoma pouted for a long moment while she thought this over. Padfoot was just so stubborn! "Okay," she said at last, drawing the word out. "Do you have any money?" It wasn't likely, but it would make things a lot easier.

Padfoot smiled faintly. "Quite a bit, but not with me. I still have a vault at Gringotts."

"Didn't the Ministry take it away?" Nicoma frowned.

He shook his head. "No, Gringotts is run by goblins. They don't really have to pay much attention to the human Ministry of Magic as long as they stay out of Muggle affairs."

"Oh. But you can't exactly go to Gringotts and ask for it, can you? So that's not much use."

"Well..." Padfoot said slowly, "I did manage to get some out once. I sent a cat with an order in another name, but with my vault number."

"And it worked?" Nicoma demanded. "They didn't find out? Maybe you could do it again."

Padfoot looked doubtful. "I _think_ they didn't find out. If I tried it again, though, they might. And it's too dangerous for you to be doing it, anyway."

Nicoma stamped one foot angrily. "I want to help you! But you won't let me _do_ anything!"

"I do appreciate your help," Sirius said patiently. "I just don't want you to get hurt, or under suspicion of helping me. Do you understand?"

Sullenly, Nicoma nodded. "I just get so worried about you!" she burst out. "I don't know what I'd do if you were caught."

"I won't get caught," Sirius assured her, "not if we're careful. Now. Is there any way you could buy an owl, or find one?"

With a sigh, Nicoma thought this over. "Well..." she said at last, "...the Owlery in town has a few owls that no one uses because they're just a bit too small to carry much. They're given away free sometimes, I think maybe they're glad to get rid of them. If I went in and asked for one, nobody would ask any questions. Everyone knows I love animals."

"If you're sure it's safe," Sirius said doubtfully.

She nodded. "I'll bring one to you by tomorrow or the day after. And I'll bring food every night, and as often as I can otherwise." Then a mischievous grin crossed her face. "Meanwhile, you can go take a bath. There's a stream not too far away, over there somewhere. I would bring you a new robe, but Daddy might notice it missing, so I suppose I better not."

"Well, good luck, then," Sirius said in resignation. Nicoma flashed a smile of farewell and darted away through the fast-darkening forest.

* * *

The tiny owl twittered away merrily, unheeding of how annoying Nicoma found it. She'd been right-the Owlery had been thrilled to get rid of the little pest. Too bad he was the only one available.

Her father was still shopping for whatever it was he'd been sent on the errand for, so Nicoma had some time yet. Hurrying to a dark corner, she pulled out a thin envelope, a sheet of parchment, and a feather-light quill, about all she thought the bird could handle. Scribbling a sentence on the edge of the parchment, she fastened the items to his leg. That took some doing, as he refused to hold still, bobbing about like a soft bubble.

Nicoma glared. Ordinarily she gave a name to just about everything, including trees and inanimate objects as well as any animal she so much as glimpsed, but this owl was really irritating. Whoever was unlucky enough to end up with him could name him; she wouldn't. "Go on," she ordered, "take that to Padfoot. And hurry up. This is important, and you're about all we can manage."

Looking delighted to have a job, the owl flitted off. Nicoma unobtrusively returned to the street where she had been told to wait, hoping the little bird would deliver its message.

* * *

The sun was beginning to sink into the western clouds before Nicoma made it back to the forest, lugging a fairly heavy bag of food and also a dark-colored robe.

She was rather proud of that purchase, despite the fact that she'd spent most of her allowance on it. Nicoma was quite certain that the best way to keep Padfoot safe was to make sure he didn't look like Sirius Black, or at least not the pictures of him. The haircut had started that process, and the new robe would come close to completing the task. Now if only she could get him to stay this way...

Padfoot was waiting for her not far from her woodshed, his face clean and his hair still slightly damp. Nicoma grinned; he'd taken her advice. "Did the owl get here okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, "he made it. I sent him off again with the letter." Padfoot smiled. "Thanks, Nicoma. It makes me feel a lot better now that Harry will know I'm all right."

"What did you say?" Nicoma asked curiously, settling down on the ground and beginning to unpack the bag.

He shrugged. "Some things that needed to be cleared up. And I sent him a permission slip for Hogsmeade-I'd overheard some things about that, seems his guardians refused to let him go. Dumbledore should accept it, I'm pretty sure I convinced him I'm innocent."

Nicoma hid a giggle. She knew the situation wasn't funny, but the thought of the grown-ups' reactions if they ever saw that paper struck her as amusing. "What're you gonna do now?" she inquired curiously.

Padfoot reached for the food. "Leave," he said bluntly. "As soon as possible. I can't put you at risk, Nicoma. South, I think, somewhere they won't be looking for me anyway."

"Oh." The child looked away, blinking hard to hold back tears. Padfoot was right, he couldn't possibly stay here forever, but...it was just so nice to have a friend! "When?"

"Tonight if I can manage it. Tomorrow morning at the very latest." Sirius paused for a moment, eyes on the child's distressed expression. "I am sorry, but it can't be helped."

She nodded, sniffed once and scrubbed a hand across her face. "I understand. I, erm...I brought you something." Nicoma held out the new robe.

The adult glanced from it to her, nonplussed. "It's not your dad's, is it?"

Nicoma shook her head. "I bought it myself. And I've something else for you, too, before you go."

"What?" Sirius asked, a bit apprehensive at this announcement. It didn't keep him from digging into the meal she'd brought, though, a rich warm stew that was probably the remains of the family's supper.

Reaching to the back of her neck, she unclasped something, and in a moment held out a small golden locket on a delicate chain. "Here."

Sirius saw her proud expression and knew he couldn't refuse the token. Gingerly, he lifted it from her hand. "Where did you get it?" he asked curiously.

The child giggled. "It's a Portkey!" she announced. "Daddy made it for me for my birthday, because I kept getting lost. When you open it, it'll take you to my woodshed."

"Will you get in trouble for losing it?" demanded Sirius.

Nicoma shook her head. "I already said I used it," she told him, face smug, "so I never wear it anymore."

Sirius laughed and acquiesced, doubling the child-size necklace about his wrist. Nicoma fastened the clasp for him. "Don't lose it," she admonished sternly. "It's your way out of any trouble you run into."

Well, always assuming they didn't notice the golden locket...but it would give him a better chance at escape in any case. "Thank you, Nicoma," he said sincerely. "I'll be careful with it."

She looked up, and to his astonishment her eyes were tear-filled. "Just be safe, Padfoot," Nicoma whispered, and gathering up the bag she fled through the woodshed.

Sirius was about to call her back, but thought better of it and only watched as the child dashed across her yard and into the house. The shorter their goodbye, the less Nicoma would miss him. Once again, he had no intention of returning to place her in still more danger...but she'd shown herself to be resourceful and intelligent, and he knew she'd be hurt if he didn't manage to write every once in a while.

And besides...Sirius hated himself for thinking so, but he might need a safe place to hide when he returned, and Nicoma's forest was the best place he'd yet found for an escaped convict. It was no wonder the girl's parents got concerned at her tendency to wander off into it...

That thought made him look down at the fragile golden locket. He felt bad taking it, but Nicoma was right, he might well need it. She certainly seemed to know her way around well enough.

What, he wondered suddenly as he headed back into the forest toward Buckbeak, would Nicoma make of the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be so very long before she received her letter, only another two years, and if her activities now were any indication, the Marauders might have some competition for the record...though Nicoma tended more toward insatiable curiosity rather than pranks.

He smiled faintly. It should be interesting to watch.


End file.
